


He'll Let Sam Do Anything

by callmeb



Series: Sam Fingers Dean [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fingerfucking, Fisting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Weecest, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeb/pseuds/callmeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time when he wakes, though, it’s because of cold liquid spilling down his balls, way more than necessary. Sam is tipping the bottle and just letting lube coat the entire space between Dean’s cheeks. Good thing Dean has a habit of stealing lube now, since the kid has a habit of pouring half a bottle into the sheets.</p>
<p>Dean doesn’t give it a second thought. He sighs into the mattress, murmuring mindlessly, “So good, little brother,” and closes his eyes to sleep again. Until he feels his ass stinging just a little bit more than usual, feels a stronger pressure inside him than what he’s used to.</p>
<p>Sam is 10; Dean is 14</p>
            </blockquote>





	He'll Let Sam Do Anything

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, I wrote more.

Dad leaves them alone more often than he used to. It’s a recent thing, within the past few months. Dean figures it’s because he can take care of Sam on his own, and the kid doesn’t like jumping schools so often. Dean doesn’t mind, though. He enjoys alone time with his little brother; it gives him an excuse to let Sam finger his ass all day long – no interruptions.

Sam likes when Dean lies naked in bed, on his stomach with his legs spread. He slides between Dean’s knees so he can get close and watch. That’s his new interest: watching. He used to be satisfied with feeling everything, but now the kid spends hours staring as he fingers his big brother’s hole, with his head on Dean’s thigh or one globe of his ass. He likes to see Dean’s body twitch when he crooks his fingers a certain direction, likes to see how that wrinkled skin stretches further and further as the boy works his way from one to three fingers. He loves the way Dean’s hole shakes and clenches hard when he comes on his little brother’s fingers.

And when he comes, Sam still wants to feel it. He got upset when Dean laid on his stomach and came in the sheets because he was so used to Dean coming against his stomach. So now the little genius gets a handkerchief and wraps it around Dean’s upper thigh, tugs Dean’s cock out until the tip points towards the back of his leg, and ties it there snugly with the cloth. Now, when Dean comes, he shoots at his little brother’s chest and stomach. It’s a little uncomfortable, sure, but it’s what Sam wants. And Dean can’t possibly deny his sweet little brother, especially when the boy massages Dean’s prostate as good as he does.

So this is how the boys spend their free time when Dad is gone: Dean on his stomach and Sam between his legs. Dean maybe reads a comic or watches TV. Sam plays with his hole; he fingers it, tugs it open, tries to peer inside while telling Dean that his hole is so easy to open, so slutty that Sam barely has to try to pull the muscle in all different directions.

When Dean is close, he humps forward in search of friction to no avail, only getting the slightest tug of that handkerchief along his shaft. But Sam is heavy at Dean’s thigh; his body just touches the tip of Dean’s cock, and Sam tells Dean to come like the slut that he is, come on his little brother. And Dean does; his cock shoots back, and his warm seed hits his little brother’s chest while the boy giggles at Dean. His load is small early in the day; he can’t quite get as much out when his cock doesn’t have Sammy’s body to rut into.

And while his body shakes with the last of his orgasm, Sam pulls his fingers out and watches Dean’s hole clamp around air. He asks if Dean’s slutty little hole wants more, if his hole needs his little brother’s fingers. And Dean will whine, beg Sam until the boy fills him up again, “Yes. Please, little brother. Put your fingers back inside me. My slutty hole needs your fingers.”

Dean feels better when Sam’s fingers are there again. He relaxes into the bed, keeps his legs wide for his brother, dozes between orgasms – because of course the kid makes him come at least once an hour – and wakes whenever his little brother hits his sweet spot enough to make Dean moan.

 

This time when he wakes, though, it’s because of cold liquid spilling down his balls, way more than necessary. Sam is tipping the bottle and just letting lube coat the entire space between Dean’s cheeks. Good thing Dean has a habit of stealing lube now, since the kid has a habit of pouring half a bottle into the sheets.

Dean doesn’t give it a second thought. He sighs into the mattress, murmuring mindlessly, “So good, little brother,” and closes his eyes to sleep again. Until he feels his ass stinging just a little bit more than usual, feels a stronger pressure inside him than what he’s used to.

He feels Sam’s fingers slipping around messily, feels soft tips working around his prostate, feels Sam’s thumb along his taint while the boy pushes his other fingers deeper, but he doesn’t feel Sam’s pinky stretching along his cheek. When Sam pulls back a bit, actually, Dean feels that little finger at his hole. But then Sam pushes forward again and it’s not there, and that strong pull on his muscles is back. Sam does the same thing again, and that’s when Dean realizes what his little brother is trying to do.

Dean tries to say stop. His head pops up and twists back to his little brother and words rush out of his mouth, “No, Sammy, stop that. What are you doing? You gotta stop, little brother, it’s too much.” But his sudden movement, his sudden panic, has his body tensing, and the slight sting turns into a soft burn.

He stares at his little brother’s face in awe. Because Sam’s eyes are wide and dark, locked on Dean’s wet entrance. His mouth is open with heavy breaths, tip of his tongue overlaying the corner of his lower lip. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, and he looks frustrated when his four fingers have trouble pushing into Dean.

Sam tells Dean to hush, to go back to sleep. He tells Dean that his hole is looser when he’s asleep, that he can fit it in there, but Dean has to go back to sleep. Dean couldn’t possibly sleep now, not with the repeated burn of his body being forced open.

He tries once more to discourage his brother, but Sam ignores his protests. Dean feels Sam’s hand pull back; he feels that pinky finger at the edge of his opening. Then he feels Sam’s thumb slide up his taint and join the rest of his digits. Dean drops his head and shoulders back to the bed, spreads his legs a little wider, and tries his best to keep his muscles loose as he listens to his little brother insisting that it will fit, Dean’s hole is such a slut that he’ll make it fit.

Sam’s fingers slide in, stretching Dean’s hole wider than he’s ever felt it before. When he feels the hard bone of knuckles, he moans out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. And he bites back a cry when those knuckles push further inside his body. Dean feels his body clenching, trying to close up over the intrusion, sliding over the smaller part of Sam’s hand all the way to his wrist.

Dean looks to the side, where a dresser with a mirror sits nearby, and he watches his little brother. Sam’s eyes are on fire; his lips are stretched thin over the smile on his face. Dean can see one chubby little hand on his ass, but the other? Dean sees his little brother’s arm end between the globes of his cheeks.

Sam pulls his hand out and pushes it back in. He curls his fingers and presses his fist up and down, twists his wrist and stares at Dean’s body in awe. “It fits,” he says. When he tries to tug his hand out in the shape of a fist, Dean’s body clasps on it. “You’re hole just ate it up, Dean. Doesn’t even wanna let it go,” he muses. “Just took my hole fist. You’re such a slut, Dean.”

And despite the burn, despite the ache in his body, Dean is panting. Because he can see his brother, his 10 year old little brother, fisting his ass, calling him a slut, and the boy loves it. Dean can’t ignore his brother’s words either. “Your slut, Sammy. Only yours. My hole only opens like this for you, little brother.”

And Sam rewards him by twisting his fist and hitting Dean’s prostate. He rubs into it with pressure he couldn’t leverage with only his fingers. Dean keens and groans, presses his hips back and calls out his little brother’s name. He humps forward, wincing at the pull of muscles, but rocks between the bed and his little brother’s fist.

His fist, his fucking _fist_ , is inside Dean. That little hand, just like the one Dean sees in the mirror, is completely inside Dean.

Dean comes while being called a slut, while writhing desperately, and his load splashes at the side of his little brother’s chest. Moans shake his entire body. His muscle seize up, causing Sam’s fist to rub his sweet spot harder, and another hard wave of pleasure forces a guttural shout from Dean’s throat.

Sam milks him, rubs his nipples over the crown of Dean’s cock, and rests his cheek on Dean’s. He points his fingers to take his hand out, painfully slowly, and goes back to sliding only three digits in and out while Dean comes down from his high. He whispers to Dean, tells him how pretty his hole looks, how it’s so wide open, wet and red and even sluttier than it was before.

Dean watches his brother’s face in the mirror. He whimpers when his brother hooks three fingers around his opening and tugs at his sore skin. But he doesn’t try to push his little brother away. He doesn’t tell the boy to stop because he’s just such a slut for his little brother’s fingers in his ass.

He spreads his legs until his knees are perpendicular to his body and only the tip of his cock is held in place by the cloth around his thigh. Sam seems too distracted to care, grabbing a pillow to stick under Dean’s pelvis before he goes back to tugging him open this way and that. He even slips his fist back in while Dean is loose with exhaustion and moves his fingers around slowly.

Dean just lies there, “Spread open like a two dollar hooker,” Sam mumbles, and he sleeps while his little brother admires his gaping hole.

 

When he wakes up again, he’s not sure how much time has passed – thirty minutes or three hours – or what woke him. Sam is still resting at his backside, head lolled on one cheek, body resting between Dean’s legs. He can still feel the slight burn of his little brother pushing him open from the inside, and he takes a minute to catalog every sting of that balled up fist, every warm breath at his crack, and every tickle of Sam’s messy hair. His own cock is still half hard at his thigh, still clung there by handkerchief. But then he feels it, feels what woke him: Sam’s fingers.

Three chubby fingers are curled just past Dean’s ring of muscle, and his little brother is tugging the wet skin down, trying to push in and pull away from his bony wrist that holds the rest of Dean’s hole open.

Dean can barely breathe out “Sammy, no,” but his knees skim further up the mattress. His back curves to push his stomach into the bed. His ass cants up for better access while his brother sniggers.

Because it’s _Sam_. And he’ll let Sam do anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed!
> 
> Thanks for reading and feel free to leave comments for me!


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